


Call Me Hopeless, But Not Romantic

by agoddamnsupernova



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, band au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-21 11:36:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15556842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoddamnsupernova/pseuds/agoddamnsupernova
Summary: Beca is the lead singer of a youtube band called The Bellas, where she, her friends and her boyfriend make music that speaks more than they could ever wish to say. But when Jesse cheats on Beca, the band (and Beca) are broken.





	1. Don't Call Me Peanut

**Author's Note:**

> There needs to be more Bemily content so I'm writing it, this will all make more sense when more chapters are out, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. 
> 
> The song Beca sings is Don't Call Me Peanut by Bayside

“ _But when I see him I'll tell him what's been on my mind all these sleepless nights, he'll recite his excuses, put my tail between these legs of mine like I do all the time_ ,” Beca croons into the mic, her fingers slowly plucking the guitar strings.

Her eyes are closed and her cheeks are damp and she’s rocking in her chair along with the beat, keeping time with her body. “ _I can't live my life knowing you'll be in her arms each time I blink my eyes. I know what goes on behind my back, every night I'm afraid I'll never leave, afraid I'll never know what's good for me.”_

“Fucking Jesse,” Stacie huffs, tossing her phone into the passenger seat. The song continues to play as she pulls into Beca’s apartment complex, her fingers tight on the wheel. “I’m going to kick his ass.”

She locks her phone and cuts off the music when she sees Beca step out of the building. Her eyes are red rimmed and she looks like she hadn’t slept a wink. Stacie sighs softly, leaning her chin on the wheel as Beca rounds the front of the car. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Beca croaks as she climbs into the truck, pulling her seat belt on. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Becs,” Stacie hums, reaching a hand over to rest it on her knee, squeezing gently. “I’ve got you,” she says softly, wishing she could take her friend’s pain away.

Beca offers her a weak smile and moves Stacie’s hand off her knee, lacing their fingers together instead. Stacie squeezes her hand gently and smiles back, they’d always been like this. Stacie had known Beca since they were kids and though it took a lot of work and patience, she cracked Beca’s hard exterior.

“So, you only have the one lecture today, right?” Stacie asks after a small stretch of silence, her thumb running over the back of Beca’s hand slowly.

“Yeah, just the one, why?” Beca replies, her head resting back against the seat, closing her eyes.

“I want you to come over to my place, we’ll watch some movies and I’ll cook for you,” Stacie smiles, pulling into the parking lot.

“I don’t need your pity, Stace,” Beca sighs softly, pulling her hand away from Stacie’s, rubbing it across her face. The other woman frowned lightly seeing the pain in her friend’s face, “Jesse cheated on me, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal if you’re singing songs about it at four in the morning instead of sleeping,” Stacie points out, shifting in her seat so she can look at Beca. “And it’s not pity, you know that.”

Beca sighs again and opens her eyes, finding Stacie’s. “Fine, I’m upset about it, I’m pissed off and hurt, but it’s fine, I’m always fine, Stace.”

Stacie shakes her head, reaching out for Beca’s hand again. “You’re not fine and that’s okay. I’m not going to push you, but I am here Beca, I’ve got you,” she hums, squeezing Beca’s hand gently.

“I know, thank you,” Beca replies softly, offering a small smile. “I gotta get going, but I’ll let you kidnap me tonight, okay?”

“Yay!” Stacie cheers, pulling Beca into a hug over the center console. “I’ll get a bunch of movies and snacks and we’ll have fun even though you don’t like movies.”

Beca shakes her head, pulling away from Stacie. “Yeah, yeah, don’t forget the booze,” she chuckles, swatting away Stacie’s hand when she tries to fix her hair. “See you later, nerd.”

“See you later, cutie!”

* * *

 

Beca is able to calm down by the time her lecture is over, she’s tired and her eyes burn but Jesse had been absent during the whole thing. While part of her starts to wonder if he was alright, another part of her snuff the thought out before it could really form.

She grabs her things and heads out, ignoring some of her classmates who try to get her attention, all mentioning the song she had posted the night before. The price of being youtube ‘famous’ was that she couldn’t vent on the internet without someone figuring out what had happened.

“Did you and Jesse really break up?” Someone asks as she passes and it makes her chest tighten. She ignores them and just keeps walking, her head down as she pops her ear buds in, trying desperately to drown out the world around her.

Relief washes over her when she sees Stacie’s beat up truck sitting a few spaces away from the door, never more happy to see the hunk of junk. “Hey beautiful,” she says as she opens the door, tossing her bag into the bed.

“Hey yourself,” Stacie chuckles, starting the engine as soon as Beca is buckled in. “How was class?”

“Pretty pleasant, Jesse never showed up,” Beca hums, pulling her phone out. She opens their youtube page out of habit and checks out the views on her late night song. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Stacie asks, trying to reach of the phone. “Why are you holy shitting?”

“Don’t Call Me Peanut, it’s already got a million views,” Beca breathes out, her eyes wide as she stares at the view counter.”How the fuck?”

“People like angst, dude,” Stacie grins, shaking her head a bit. “Why’d you title it that anyway?”

“I couldn’t very well title it, Don’t Call Me Becaw, now could I?” She snorts, closing the page before pulling up her music, plugging the aux cord in.

Stacie chuckles at that, taking a sharp turn onto the highway, making Beca clutch her seat tightly. “Whoops, sorry.”

“Bullshit,” Beca huffs, pushing her hair from her face. “You’re an ass, gonna get us killed one of these days.”

“Please, I’m an amazing driver,” Stacie smirks, reaching over to turn the radio up. “You’re just a pussy.”

Beca watches Stacie’s hand as it moves from the radio to the steering wheel, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the bruise blooming across her knuckles and down the back of her hand. “What happened there?”

“Huh? Oh this? Nothing,” Stacie snorts, waving said hand in the air to dismiss the question. “Ow, fuck you!” She yells, snatching her hand away after Beca had smacked it.

“Don’t lie to me Stacie,” Beca says lowly, a brow quirked at her friend. “What did you do?”

“Fine, fuck,” Stacie huffs, shrugging a shoulder. “I, maybe, saw Jesse heading into class and sort of...I dunno, lured him away to talk...and maybe, sort of...punched him in the face.”

Beca is quiet for a moment, her eyes flickering from Stacie’s face to her hand before she’s shaking her head. “You’re an idiot,” she states flatly unable to control the small smile playing at her lips, leaning back in her seat. “He’s got a brick for a skull, you could have broken your hand on his dumbass face.”

“You’re worth it,”

* * *

 

Beca is sprawled out on Stacie’s couch, her shirt is bunched up around her ribs and she’s wearing a pair of Stacie’s shorts that are a little too big, a little to baggy and it makes Stacie happy to see her relaxed.

“How ya feeling?” She asks, moving Beca’s legs so she can sit down. “I made popcorn,” she hums, setting it on Beca’s knees once her feet are in Stacie’s lap.

“Better, I think I just needed to be somewhere that he never really was,” Beca replies softly, her eyes glued to the screen. “Thank you.”

“You’re my best friend Beca, I’d do anything for you,” Stacie murmurs, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “So, you don’t have to thank me.”

“Too late,” Beca chuckles, throwing a piece of popcorn at her friend, giggling when it bounces off of her cheek. “Gotcha!”

Stacie snorts, shaking her head as she grabs a handful of popcorn, throwing it at Beca with a grin. “You’re a little brat.”

“I mean, you’re my best friend, what does that say about you?” Beca asks, brows raised as she starts eating the snacks that had landed on her shirt.

“That I have good taste,” Stacie hums, turning her attention back to the movie. “Now, behave so we can finish this.”

“When do I ever behave?” Beca teases, but does as she’s told, stretching to get comfortable before relaxing again.

Stacie smiles softly, watching the way her friend’s eyes flicker along the screen until they start to slide shut. She had been hoping this would happen, the singer needed sleep and Stacie needed peace of mind that Beca would be alright.

She was her person.

* * *

 

Beca wakes up with her face stuck to the leather cushion of Stacie’s couch, the sound it makes when she pulls away making her cringe a little. “Fuck,” she mumbles, sitting up slowly.

It’s still dark and Stacie had long since gone to bed, leaving Beca in the living room. It was odd, to wake up alone after so many years of having Jesse next to her. _Jesse_. She sighs softly, grabbing her phone off the end table, the bright light making her squint.

“Speak of the devil,” she whispers, finding a total of thirty notifications from her ex, between texts, calls and a few social media outlets, he had apologized at least a hundred times. She responds by blocking him on everything and even goes as far as changing the password to the band’s youtube channel.

“Try and talk to me now, you asshole,” she sighs, sitting back against the cushions. With deft fingers she pulls up her latest song and plays it, her chest clenching as her own words play back to her.

“Put my tail between these legs of mine, like I do all the time,” she sings softly, a few tears slipping down her cheeks.

When the song is finished, she checks the view counter, smiling slightly at the new number. It’s a few hundred more than earlier and there are plenty of comments to read. Most of them are fans apologizing for whatever hurt her but there are a few asking for specifics.

One catches her eye, from a user named Emily, it even makes her smile. _I don’t know exactly what’s caused you this much pain, but I do know that you are strong. I’ve been listening to your music for a few weeks now and a lot of it helps me get through tough days. So, even if it's hard right now, things will get better. I know it._

Beca shakes her head a bit and pins the comment before she tosses her phone aside. She sits in the dark for a few moments before she's pushing herself up from the couch slowly. Stacie’s room is down the hall and Beca heads there with little thought, wanting to quell the loneliness that echoes in her chest.


	2. Help Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten points to the first person to guess who the mystery character and the end of the chapter is

Beca wakes up with her face pressed to Stacie’s shoulder, slightly embarrassed by the amount of drool that has soaked into her friend’s shirt. “Fuck,” she whispers as she lifts her head up slowly, frowning at the large dark spot.

“Don’t even worry about it, you always drool,” Stacie hums, making Beca jump away slightly. “But, good morning.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Beca huffs, bringing a hand up to wipe at her mouth self-consciously. “I don’t drool...do I?”

“Dude, you always drool, especially when you’re not sober,” Stacie chuckles, sitting up slowly, stretching her arms above her head, smiling when her shoulders pop. “I think the most I’ve seen you drool was when we went to that Twenty One Pilots and Jon Bellion show in New Orleans and we got stoned, you passed out on me and I swear it was like you spilled a glass of water on my shirt.”

Beca feels the burning heat of her blush crawl up her neck as she shakes her head, trying not to think about how gross that sounded. “I am so sorry,” she squeaks out before she’s flopping back against the pillows. “I wonder why Jesse never said anything?”

“Probably because he didn’t mind your drool somewhere else,” Stacie quips,, earning herself a smack on the thigh from the other girl. “Hey, you asked!”

“You’re still gross,” Beca groans, pulling a pillow over her face. She grumbles incoherently into the fabric before Stacie is pulling it away, her brows raised. “I didn’t...I never...ugh!”

Stacie giggles softly, shaking her head a bit as she plops the pillow back over Beca’s face. “I should have known, Beca Mitchell is no dick sucker.”

“I hate you so much!” Beca shouts, hitting Stacie with the pillow hard enough to make the older girl squeal. “You can’t just leave it be, you always have to tease me,” she huffs, straddling Stacie to tickle her.

“No! Beca...p-please!” Stacie gasps out around giggles, squirming under the smaller girl. “I give, I give! I’m sorry!”

Bec lets up after a moment of listening to Stacie’s scream laughter and just grins down at her giggle flushed friend. “You deserved that,” she hums, tapping Stacie’s nose lightly.

“I did,” Stacie chuckles out, running a hand through her hair. “Who knew you were a tiny little top,” she teases, resting her arms above her head, which turns out to be a mistake on her part, giving Beca access to her most ticklish area.

“Fuck you,” Beca snorts, tickling under Stacie’s arms, an evil little grin on her face.

“Y-you’d like that too much!” Stacie giggles out, squirming hard enough to throw them both off the bed.

“Don’t think you can like that too much,” Beca smirks from her spot on the carpet. “Now, get your shit together we have band practice today.”

* * *

 

Stacie shouldn’t be surprised that Jesse’s van is parked outside of Lilly’s house, the owner sitting on the porch steps, clearly barred access by their drummer. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“Who knows, maybe he’s pissed that I not only blocked him on everything but also changed our channel’s password and security settings,” Beca chuckles lowly, shaking her head a bit. “Nice work there, Stace.”

Stacie smiles proudly, her chest puffing out a bit when she realizes Beca is referring to the bruise that’s blossomed across Jesse’s cheek and jaw. “He deserves worse, but I’m glad you like my art.”

Beca smiles softly, her gaze drifting to Stacie’s own bruise, which is much darker than the day before. “Wish you wouldn’t have gotten hurt though.”

“You’re worth it Bec,” the older girl hums, tapping Beca’s thigh gently. “Now, let’s get this over with, he needs to understand that he is no longer welcome to play with us.”

“God, this means we’re going to have to hold auditions for a new keyboardist,” Beca groans softly while she runs a hand through her hair “Ugh, whatever, you’re right, let’s get this over with.”

They climb out of the truck and head up to the porch, Stacie taking the lead, ready to sacrifice her knuckles for her best friend once more. “Get lost, Swanson,” she all but growls, feeling rather like a rottweiler in the moment.

“I have every right as you to show up to practice, _Conrad_ ,” Jesse bites out, his eyes narrowing at the girl. “It’s my band too.”

“Actually, it’s my band, you just played in it,” Beca snaps, stepping out from behind Stacie to glare the man. “Too bad you were too busy playing me to care about what would happen to the band when you got caught.”

“I wasn’t playing you!” Jesse exclaims, standing abruptly, making Stacie stand a little taller. “You’ve been letting this one get into your head, I was nothing but good to you.”

“Don’t you dare drag Stacie into this,” Beca growls, stepping into Jesse’s personal space. “Don’t you fucking dare try to blame anyone else for this. You went behind my back, you fucked this up,  _you_ Jesse, no one else. No one fucking made you sleep with that underclassman.”

Jesse’s eyes narrow as he stares down his ex, his fists clenching at his sides. “Beca, it was a one-time thing, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Oh, it meant something,” the singer says, stabbing a finger at Jesse’s chest. “It means that you can get fucked. You can get the fuck out of my face, the fuck out of  _my_ band and the fuck out of my life.”

He looks like he’s going to argue more, his eyes flickering from Beca’s cold stare to Stacie’s equally steely one before he’s shaking his head. “Fine, good luck replacing me,” he huffs out, shoving past Beca hard enough to make the smaller girl stumble.

There’s a short pause as Beca rights herself before she turns to look at his back. “Jesse wait,” she says and Stacie’s heart plummets as Jesse turns, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I want to give you something.”

Jesse’s brows knit in confusion as Beca walks to him. There’s a moment where Stacie thinks that Beca will kiss him, but then she sees Beca’s arm draw back, her fist curled tightly. The smacking sound echoes down the side streets, Jesse stumbling back hard enough to fall.

“If I ever see you around here again, I’ll make sure you walk away with permanent damage,” Beca says coldly before she turns back around and marches to the porch. “Come on, we have plans to make.”

Beca’s words are firm but they can’t hide the slight shake to her voice, nor the tear that slips down her cheek as she all but drags Stacie into the house.

* * *

“And you lectured me for punching him,” Stacie teases as she holds ice to Beca’s knuckles. “But, I won’t lecture you, I’m too proud.”

Beca rolls her eyes, wincing a little when Stacie readjusts the pack on her hand. “He just pissed me off, how dare he lie right to my face like that,” she snorts, shaking her head a bit. “Bullshit he wasn’t playing me, fucking dumbass.”

“I hate to be the one to point out bad news, but what are we going to do for a keyboardist at this weekend’s show?” Lilly asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beca groans softly, letting her head thump against the arm of their well-worn couch. They were all sat in their makeshift studio, one that Beca and Lilly had built from a few pop-up sheds from Home Depot, a shit ton of soundproofing foam and some cheap carpet they scored at a flea market. They’d all had a hand in decorating it, pictures, posters, and stickers plastered the walls.

Their instruments were all stored there, even the electric keyboard Beca had bought Jesse for his birthday that year. She would have to remember to ask Lilly to lock it up in her basement just in case Jesse tried to come for it.

“Why don’t we post a quick video and ask anyone in the area that has piano skills to come to The Hangout and try out,” Stacie suggests, leaving Beca to tend to her own hand. “You know that Gale will let us use the club for auditions before open hours.”

Beca and Lilly share a look before they both shrug, what harm could it do to put it out there? “I suppose even if we don’t get anyone, we can pull keyboard audio from our files,” Beca says, dropping her ice pack on the end table in front of them. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

A notification pops up on her phone screen while she’s in the middle of a lecture, but it doesn’t stop her from quietly putting an earbud in to watch the latest video from her favorite band. Help Wanted is the video’s title and while she’s expecting it to be a new music video, she finds that it is actually the band looking for a new keyboardist.

 _“So, if you have any skills on the keys and are in the area, come meet us at The Hangout tomorrow at ten in the morning. We know that’s pretty early for some of you, but we have to get auditions done before the club opens in the evening,”_ Stacie says, that warm smile on her face that makes it feel like she’s truly talking to the viewer instead of a camera.

She can barely contain the squeal of excitement that threatens to escape her lips as she closes the video. She could audition to be in the Bellas...she could meet Stacie. She had to go. There was no doubt about it.

So she sets an alarm for eight-thirty when she gets home to give herself time to get ready. She had to make a good impression, she had to do her best to be a part of the band that helped her get through one of the toughest moments of her life.

She would be a Bella.


	3. New Beginnings

_Well, I thought that we could sit around and talk for hours about things I couldn’t say to you and things that we could never do and this conversation has had no face when the words take days you can rewrite and erase anything._

Stacie sighs softly as she listens to her friend’s voice flow through the speakers. “Oh, Beca,” she murmurs, running a hand through her hair. She wished Beca would just talk about how she’s feeling instead of posting depressing songs on their page in the middle of the night.

_And I’ll borrow words from all my favorite paragraphs to write a ballad while we say the things, we’d hope would mean the most to me. And each line is sent I have found in the pages of hope for the days when I feel like I’ve lost everything._

Stacie finds herself humming along with the tune, unable to imagine adding her own bass to the song as she goes about getting ready. They had auditions today and she had every intention of looking her best, just in case there was anyone hot to look out for.

_I’ll be okay, is that what you want me to say? It’s called break up, cause it’s broken. I’ll be okay, is that what you want me to say? It’s called break up, cause it’s broken._

She pulls on her shoes, her heart breaking for her friend. If she had it her way, she would go and find Jesse and give him more than a black eye, lord knows he deserved worse. Who was stupid enough to cheat on someone like Beca?

_And you were just about to tell me how you meant that you were sorry and the nights we've spent have really meant the world to you. Let's not pretend I'm keeping track on every note, on every page the day she wrote. The cherry flavored kisses well, I taste them. Do you miss it?_

The song is interrupted by a call, the very person she had been listening to ringing on the other line. “Hey, babes,” Stacie answers quickly, grabbing her purse as she heads toward the door. “Do you need me to pick you up?”

 _“Yeah, Lilly was supposed to but she woke up late and I’m not even sure she’ll make it on time,”_ Beca’s tired voice replies, the gentle hoarseness making Stacie wonder how many times she had sung that song before recording it.

“Okay, well I’m heading out now, I’ll be there soon,” she hums, locking her door before heading out to her truck. “Do you want me to pick up breakfast?”

“ _Uh, if you want to, I’ve got my smoothie so it’s up to you, beanpole,”_ Beca replies and Stacie can hear her door opening and closing.

“Okay, well I’ll stop for some muffins, easy and filling,” Stacie replies as she drives, her phone resting on her thigh on speaker. “Blueberry for you?”

 _“Fuck that noise,”_ Beca chuckles and Stacie can picture the roll of the girl’s eyes. _“Get me a double chocolate chunk, please.”_

“Yes ma’am,”

* * *

Beca flops into the booth closest to the stage, setting her muffin in front of her, her smoothie cast aside for the chocolatey baked good. “Does this even count as a breakfast food?” She asks as she tears off a piece, popping it into her mouth with a hum.

“Probably not, but we’re adults now, anything can be breakfast,” Stacie replies as she settles next to Beca, picking at her own muffin. Just regular chocolate chip.

“True that,” Beca chuckles, her foot tapping against the foot of the table. “Do you think Lilly will show up before the auditions start?”

“Hard to say, knowing our luck she’ll just pop up next to us in the middle of it and act like she’d been there the whole time,” Stacie chuckles, shaking her head as she chews.

Beca smiles to herself thinking back on how the three had stumbled into friendship. High school was such a weird time and college even weirder, but they stayed together. They were a patchwork family, one that Beca cherished.

“So, are we going to talk about that song you posted or...?” Stacie asks, her brows raised at the singer. “It was pretty deep.”

“I just needed to get it out of my head,” Beca shrugs, flexing her bruised hand a few times, watching the darkened skin stretch along her knuckles. “You know how I get when my emotions build up, music is the best way I can let them out without it hurting so much.”

Stacie lets out the softest of sighs as she scoots closer, wrapping an arm around Beca’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I know, I just wish you would talk to me about how you’re feeling. I worry about you. You’re my best friend and I love you.”

Beca smiles slightly, leaning into her friend, her eyes falling shut. “I know, Stace, I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to put my thoughts into words. At least not the kind where I’m just talking,” she pauses for a moment, biting her lip.

“I am much more eloquent when it comes to music, I can stitch together melodies, build bridges with just a few words and make them mean something. I can pour my soul into lyrics and the strum of a guitar,” she opens her eyes then, watching the way Stacie’s fingers trace along her bruise. “I feel my pulse in every beat of the drum...music is what makes me, me.”

“I know, Becs,” Stacie murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of Beca’s head before pulling away. “Just try to keep me in the loop, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” Beca offers, a bumping Stacie with her shoulder. “I love you, too, you know that, right?”

“I know.”

* * *

Aubrey sighs as she leans against the wall, her fingers twitching while she waits. About a dozen people had already auditioned before her and she was anxious for her turn to play for the Bellas. No one ahead of her was particularly bad, but they weren’t great either. She just hoped that the few people behind her weren’t better than her. She needed this.

After another twenty minutes, it was finally her turn and she found herself suddenly nervous. It’s uncharacteristic of her, but as she crosses the stage to stand in front of the provided electric keyboard, her hands shake.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” Stacie asks, putting on her southern drawl which makes Beca smile and Aubrey feel a little less petrified.

“Aubrey Posen,” she replies her fingers brushing along the edge of the keyboard. “I’ve been listening to you guys since the start, unless you had something specific you want to hear, I was hoping I could play an arrangement of one of your older songs.”

Beca and Stacie share a look before shrugging, Stacie’s sparkling eyes falling on Aubrey once more, causing the blonde’s heart to go into overdrive. “Go for it, everyone here has just been playing basic stuff, so we’d love a change of pace.”

Aubrey nods, a slight smile on her lips as she messes with the settings a bit before her fingers are falling against the keys. She gets lost in the music, her body moving along with the beat that thrums inside her head. Her eyes fall shut and she lets herself be encompassed by the tune, letting it fill her lungs and run through her veins.

It’s a piano version of one of The Bellas first songs titled Sunshine, is sounds almost melancholy as the sound echoes through the empty bar and when she opens her eyes she’s met with twin gazes, both filled with surprise and admiration.

“She was really good,” a voice says softly from the corner of the stage, making Aubrey jump when she sees the band’s drummer standing there looking as mysterious as ever. “We should keep her.”

“Cheese and crackers,” Aubrey mutters under her breath, her cheeks burning when Beca snorts and Stacie flashes her a warm smile.

“I mean, I agree that you’re really good, Aubrey and even if we choose you,” Beca pauses, her brow furrowing when Stacie pinches her arm. “It wouldn’t be fair if we didn’t listen to the last couple of people.”

Aubrey nods, trying her best not to feel too crestfallen as she heads off the stage, stopping only when a voice calls out to her. “Why don’t you chill out with us while we listen to the last few, no sense in you leaving.”

The blonde turns to find those blue eyes on her once more and she can’t bring herself to say no. Even if they didn’t pick her, she would make the most of this moment. “Thanks,” she murmurs, hopping off the stage so she can scoot into the booth.

Beca gives them both a look before rolling her eyes, a slight smile on her face. “You’re a useless lesbian,” she murmurs to Stacie, earning herself a slap to the arm from the taller girl.

“I will have you know that I am a useless pansexual, thank you very much,” Stacie snorts, bringing the straw of her water bottle to her lips.

“I was trying to be funny,” Beca huffs, her eyes moving from Stacie to the stage, her features hardening suddenly. “What the _fuck_ , dude?”

Aubrey follows Beca’s line of sight, her brows furrowing when she sees the band’s former keyboardist standing on the stage looking smug. She could sense the shift in the room, how Stacie seemed to sit up straighter as Aubrey took in the bruises blooming across Jesse’s face.

“Jesse, you need to leave,” Stacie says firmly, her hands clenching into fists on the table top. “Before we give you a few more pretty purple marks.”

“These are open auditions, there’s no reason I can’t be here,” he replies, her fingers smoothing over the keys.

“Fine, play and leave,” Beca snaps, her arms crossing over her chest.

Aubrey is hit with an overwhelming urge to protect the small singer, her chest filling with rage when Jesse starts playing the music to a love song he and Beca had sung a few months before. Before she really registers what she’s doing, she’s on the stage again, pulling the plug to the keyboard.

“You need to leave, you’re making Beca and Stacie wholly uncomfortable,” she says firmly, tossing the plug to the floor. “If you’re trying to get Beca to take your sorry ass back, forcing her into uncomfortable situations isn’t exactly the way to do it.”

“And why do you care? Who the hell are you anyway?” Jesse snaps, turning to face the blonde, finding himself toe to toe with her.

“I’m the one taking your place, now save yourself some pain and leave,” Aubrey replies, her eyes narrowing at the man. “Or I might add a little more than a bruise to your collection.”

Jesse steps a bit closer but Aubrey stands her ground, waiting for something, anything to happen. The man just glares at her for a moment before brushing past her, his shoulder colliding with hers hard enough to make her stumble a bit.

She lets it go though, shaking her head as she plus the keyboard back in. “Do you want me to go get the next person?” She asks, trying to give the girls something else to focus on, but when she looks down at them in the booth, she just finds them staring at her. “What?”

“Dude, you’re so badass!” Stacie exclaims, a smile brightening up her face. “Beca, do we really have to see everyone else? I really just want to adopt Aubrey into the band and go get some food.”

Beca sighs softly, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Fine, fine, but only because I’m hungry as fuck.”

“Wait, so does that mean...?” Aubrey trails off, her brows raised at the pair.

“Welcome to The Bellas!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Last Something that Meant Anything by Mayday Parade is the main song used in this chapter. The song Aubrey play is a piano version of Sunshine by The All-American Rejects.


	4. Truth and Consequence

Beca feels so fucking alive, the music is loud and the crowd does it's best to match their intensity and it’s so unbelievable. They’re all here to see them play and for the first time in weeks, she doesn’t feel so broken anymore.

“Alright, are you guys ready to hear our newest song?” She calls into the mic, listening to the crowded bar yell back at her. “Hell yeah, we just finished fine tuning this last night, so you better let us know what you think!”

Beca receives a roar in response and it makes her grin. “Oh, and one more thing, this goes out to all the asshole exes out there. Get fucked!” It’s a little much, she knows, but it gets her an incredible cheer from the crowd and a proud look from her bandmates and that’s enough to make her happy.

“Let’s go,” she hears Lilly call out before she’s diving into the very soul of the song, the heartbeat that keeps them all in tune and on time.

“ _Electrified, we burn all night, paralyzed by black and white,”_ Beca sings into the mic, her fingers working the guitar in her hands with deft grace. _“But who are you and who am I, electrified, we burn all night.”_

 _“I want you to fall apart like I did, you to hurt for all of this,”_ she’s so fucking proud of this song. Written in the time it took for them all to finish their meal at Aubrey’s celebration dinner and perfected in the three days before their gig. _“All the pain you put me through. I wanna hear you say, I don't deserve you.”_

She was done feeling sorry for herself, done letting what Jesse did eat away at her. She was angry and hurt, but she knew her worth. _“Terrified by waking eyes. The empty space you left behind, but who are you and who I am? Terrified by waking eyes.”_

Beca can’t help the smile on her face as she watches the crowd moving along to her song, fists raised and heads nodding to the beat. This was her anthem, an ode to the person she was vowing to be from this moment on.

 _“I wanna hear you say, I don’t deserve you!”_ Her voice is strong and the warmth that started in her chest has spread to the rest of her. She can feel everything, Lilly’s sticks against the drums, Stacie’s fingers thrumming against her bass and Aubrey’s gliding over her keys. They were all one, connected by the music.

 _“Oh oh oh, ohhh oh. Oh oh oh, ohhh oh,”_ The build up is worth it, she can see in the way the crowd has started to move. They’re all prepared for the moment they can start jumping. _“Electrified we burn all night,”_ and there it is, the slight pause in the music before it picks up again, going twice as hard as before.

 _“I want you to fall apart like I did, you to hurt for all of this,”_ and she’s jumping with them, feeding off their energy, letting it flow through her. This was her night. _“All the pain you put me through, I wanna hear you say, I don’t deserve you.”_

 _“Fall apart like I did, you to hurt for all of this. All the pain you put me through, I wanna hear you say, I don’t deserve you!”_ Beca stops jumping then, her fingers playing her last few cords. _“Electrified we burn all night.”_

The crowd explodes on the final cord and Beca feels it down into her core. These were her people, this was her comfort zone. She never feels taller than when she’s stood on stage. “Thank you for coming out. We’re The Bellas and this has been a blast,” she pants into the mic, her heart throbbing in her chest.

They’re ready to pack up when the crowd starts making noise again. It’s soft at first, just a murmur through the room, steadily growing into a dull roar. They wanted an encore. Beca shares a look with her girls before glancing over at the bartender, he was in charge of the whole thing.

The man just shrugs a bit, nodding toward the mic and Beca grins for what seems like the millionth time that night. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

 _“I’ll stop wearing black when they make a darker color,”_ Beca croons to the crowd, the instruments dying off just before she finishes the line. They’ve finally wrapped up the night after playing four extra songs.

“You guys are amazing, thank you so much for the amazing night!” Beca calls out, shaking her head as she pulls away from the mic. She was exhausted, but it’s not a bad feeling, quite the opposite. She was happy to be tired for a good reason for once.

“That was crazy,” Aubrey breathes out as they’re packing up the van. “I had no idea how different it would feel being on the other side of the stage.”

“You like it?” Stacie asks, shoving her bass into the back, reaching for the blonde’s keyboard case. “Like, it’s a good different, right?”

“Very good,” Aubrey grins, running a hand through her sweaty locks. “Watching you guys was always amazing, don’t get me wrong, but _this..._ this is so much better.”

“Just wait until you get to film a music video with us,” Beca chuckles, slamming the hatch of the van shut. “They look like fun, but they’re really just frustrating.”

“How so?”

“There are so many takes and retakes and just when you think you have the perfect shot, you find out that _someone’s_ bra has been peeking out during the entire thing and you have to reshoot it again,” the singer replies, shooting Stacie a pointed look.

“I still say we could have left it in,” Stacie argues, hands on her hips. “It would have added a personal touch.”

“You can’t have a video move from a serious scene to the bassist’s lingerie poking out,” Beca snorts, shaking her head. “You just can’t.”

“Whatever you say,” Stacie huffs, but Beca knows she’s not taking it seriously. “Let’s go get drunk!”

* * *

 

Beca is happily sloshed by the time she stumbles into her apartment, dropping her keys in the dish her little brother had made for her birthday the year before. She’s still high on the energy of the night and feeling overly warm as she strips down to her underwear, leaving a trail of clothing following her to her bed.

It takes her three tries to successfully plug her phone in and when she does, she gets comfortable under the covers and searches their tag on twitter, hopeful for some shots of the show.

There are a few decent videos and a handful of pictures that aren’t blurry and she makes a show of retweeting them with compliments. It makes her happy, knowing these people cared enough to save physical memories of the show.

She ends up scrolling aimlessly through the tag until she happens upon a tweet with a link to a video, the caption reading. _Oh my god, I want to see Emily do a collab with @thebellasband so bad after watching this!_

So, she lets curiosity take her down a rabbit hole and clicks the link. She’s redirected to a YouTube video by EmJunkChoreography titled _Lose It - The Bellas - Choreography by Emily Junk._

The video pans around a dance studio, taking in different shots of people learning steps to a dance paired with a song her and Jesse had put out a few months prior. It’s a little bittersweet hearing it, but she can’t bring herself to hate the song, it meant too much.

After the initial intro, the camera is focused on a tall brunette dressed in a pair of black joggers and a hoodie which has been cut into a crop top, the band of a pink sports bra peeking out from under it.

“Fuck,” Beca breathes out, watching as the camera pulls back. The girl could move, even with a slow song like this.

She finds herself focusing less on the actual dance and more on the woman herself, this Emily had a rocking body and Beca would be an idiot if she didn’t notice. Muscle pulled and rippled under tanned skin, power and grace showing in every move.

When she’s finished, groups start doing the same dance and Beca finds herself losing interest and scrolls through the comment section instead. It appears that the twitter account that had brought her here, wasn’t the only person who wanted to see her band collaborate with this woman.

So, about fifty comments and another choreography video later, Beca sends a drunken tweet out into the world, thinking nothing of consequences. _@EmilyJunkChoreo it seems our fans want to see us collab, can’t say I blame them. You’ve got some amazing moves, hit me up if you ever feel like teaching this old dog some new tricks ;)_

* * *

 

Beca wakes up to the soft buzzing of her phone, her brow furrowing as she digs it out from under her pillow. “What the fuck?” She mumbles, squinting at the all too bright screen where a list of notifications sits.

Her phone keeps buzzing every few seconds, adding another pop up to the screen. “What the fuck is happening on twitter?” She asks herself as she unlocks her phone, finding herself tagged in a few hundred tweets, all of them mentioning an Emily Junk.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps out, looking through the subtweets of the one she had posted the night before. “What did I do?”

She doesn’t have much time to dwell on the fact that her fans were blowing up her phone when she sees the little red marker over the DM icon, her heart skipping a beat as she clicks it, finding a message from the choreographer who was surely getting just as many notifications as herself.

_Hey, I don’t know if you were serious about doing a collab or not, but if you were, I’m totally down. Your music is really amazing and I’m glad you found the video. Let me know the details if this is something you really want to do. Have a great day!_

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs in order of appearance: Fall Apart - Every Avenue, Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) - Fall Out Boy, Lose It - Oh Wonder


	5. Ch-ch-changes

“Beca, I really don’t understand what you’re freaking out about,” Stacie sighs as she lines her eyes. “You got a really popular choreographer to get back to you about a collab, what’s the problem?” 

“The  _ problem  _ is that I was drunk as fuck when I tweeted that,” Beca huffs, flopping down in the chair next to Stacie. “And I only did it, because I found a video she did to one of our songs and then...maybe went on a gay youtube deep dive and watched a bunch of her videos.” 

“Oh my god,” Stacie chuckles softly, turning to look at the smaller girl. “You binge watched her videos?” 

“Yes...” Beca replies, rubbing a hand over her face. “She's really fucking hot, okay?” 

“I’m still not seeing a problem,” Stacie hums, poking the singer’s side gently. “A hot girl wants to do some work together...maybe even more than work.” 

“Oh my god! Shut the fuck up,” Beca exclaims, smacking Stacie’s arm, making the lipstick she had brought to her lips smear across her cheek. “Beautiful.” 

“You’re dead!” Stacie yells before she’s tackling her friend to the floor, digging her fingers into Beca’s sides harshly. “Do you know how much this lipstick costs?” 

“It’s just a-a smear,” Beca manages to shout between giggles as she squirms under Stacie’s weight. “You’re ov-over-fuck! You’re overreacting!”

“I’ll stop if you agree to message Emily back,” Stacie grins, her fingers stilling against Beca’s ribs for a moment. “What do you say?” 

“I hate you.”

* * *

 

Beca’s fingers glide along the guitar strings with a practiced grace as she tries to think of literally anything to do that isn’t sending a message to one Emily Junk. She promised Stacie she would, sure, but she never said  _ when  _ she would do it. 

She plucks out a soft tune for a few moments before the buzzing of her phone pulls her attention away. She sighs softly, pulling it out of her pocket, brow furrowing at the unknown number. “Hello?” 

_ “Uh, hey, Beca,”  _ a woman’s voice sounds over the line.  _ “I don’t know if you remember me from the other night or not, my name is Alison,”  _ and it makes Beca’s stomach clench because she does remember, well, she remembers parts of it. 

“Oh, hey, how are you?” She replies awkwardly, running a hand through her hair. She really needed to make sure she gave up her phone before she got drunk. 

_ “I’m okay, been a busy day, but listen,”  _ there’s a pause and it leaves a sour taste in Beca’s mouth.  _ “I had a really good time with you and I just wanted to see if you’d like to get together sometime.”  _

Beca lets out a soft sigh, thudding her head back against her chair. “Alison, look, I’m sure you’re a really great girl, I just...I’m not--I was really drunk the other night and that sounds terrible because it is, but I don’t even remember giving you my number and honestly...you’re better off with someone else.” 

She’s met with silence before the line goes dead and leaves her to her shame. She throws her phone at the couch hard before, groaning as she tries to recall what had happened on Saturday. How many people had she kissed? How many had been more? What was she doing?

“Trying to stop thinking about you,” she murmurs to herself, trying and failing to push the thought of Jesse out of her mind. “So...stupid.”

* * *

 

“ _ Wish I could get a little un-drunk so I could un-call you, at five in the morning, I would un-fuck you _ ,” Beca croons, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. “ _ Honestly, this party's over, everyone here should have gone home, but I'm afraid of being sober.” _

“ _ Cause the first thing I do when I'm alone, I start touching myself to the photos that you used to send me, I should have deleted, but kept it a secret. Is that crazy to do?”  _ She moves along with the beat she’s creating with her mixer, her eyes closed. 

She’s a little too high, getting a little too vulnerable, but maybe cracking her ribcage open would be helpful in the end. “ _ Wish I could get a little un-drunk so I could un-call you at five in the morning, I would un-fuck you, but some things you can't undo.”  _

_ “I wish I could un-kiss the room full of strangers, so I could un-spite you, un-lose my temper, but somethings you can't undo and one of them's you.”  _ Beca’s voice cracks ever so slightly, her eyes flashing to the camera for the briefest of moments before they’re sliding shut again. 

Maybe, if she never opened her eyes, she could pretend this was all a dream.  _ “I'm afraid to turn the lights on, I don't want to face this rebound. Is it weird if I come over? I want to but I know that she's around.” _

_ “So I'm touching myself to the photos that you used to send me, I should have deleted, but kept it a secret. Is that crazy to do?”  _ She chuckles into the mic with a shake of her head, she knows it's terrible, she would have to remember to have Stacie delete those later. 

It was ridiculous, really, how much this was tearing her apart. She doesn’t want it to hurt like this, she wants to be that girl who was on stage on Saturday, singing about strength. She wants to be able to shove Jesse into a box and never speak of him again. 

But maybe that’s not how healing works. 

_ “Been through every emotion. Right now I'm sad and broken like the bottles on the floor, but I'm too buzzed to clean them up,”  _ she lets out a shaky little sigh as her fingers move against the keys again.  _ “Wish I could get a little un-drunk so I could, I could un-love you.”  _

She dives into the chorus with as much energy as she can muster when her heart is pounding in her chest. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Would it be so bad if they did?

_ “Wish I could un-love you...” _

* * *

 

_ Hey, so, this is probably none of my business, but I saw the new song you just posted and don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful and I really like it but, do you like...would you like someone to talk to? I completely understand if you don’t and you can tell me to leave you alone, I just thought I would offer. I’m here if you need anything.  _

Beca has been staring at Emily’s message for an hour, her eyes glazed over, her thumbs hover over her phone’s keyboard. In the end, she ends up spilling her guts, typing out every feeling she’s kept bottled up since she found Jesse kissing that girl. And she’s not sure why she’s doing it, Emily is a complete stranger, but when she hits send, it feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. 

She waits for Emily’s reply for a moment before she’s moving to her kitchen to grab a trash bag, she had a mess to clean up. By the time all of the bottles and cans and used up joints have been taken care of and she’s taken a damp rag to every surface imaginable, there’s a reply sitting in her DMs. 

_ Okay, wow, that’...a lot, I’m so sorry, Beca. I know sorry isn’t what you’re looking for, but I felt like I should say it anyway. I hope you know that you deserve better than that, than him. He sounds like a complete asshole. And I know he was your best friend before all of this, but you really need to make sure that you’re putting a clear line between who he is and who he used to be. Just because he was sweet once doesn’t mean that he can be again. He royally fucked up and I don’t think this is something he can redeem himself from.  _

_ I know you probably feel like you’ve lost out on more than just an ex, but there are people in your life who love and care for you. You don’t need him. And for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. You’re so strong. Your music speaks volumes and I really believe that you’re going to come back from this stronger than ever.  _

It makes Beca smile, how optimistic this girl seems, it was a nice change of pace. She shakes her head a bit, trying to wipe the evidence of her happiness off her lips before she types out her reply. 

**_You are far too sweet for your own good, Ms. Junk. You managed to make me smile and everything. You’re also right about a lot of things and I think that shows how wise you are. It’s kind of crazy how comfortable I feel with you already, you know, all things considered. I’m really glad you messaged me today. I think I’ve just been so lost in myself, trying to figure out how I could have done something different. I never really stopped to think that none of this is my fault and in the end, I could have changed a million things and this still would have happened._ **

They end up talking for hours, about Jesse, about music and dancing and all the stupid silly things in between. Beca smiles more in the hours before bed than she has all week and she tries not to think about what that could mean. Emily was sweet and kind and oh so beautiful and as much as Beca knows it’s a bad idea, she sends Emily her cell number right before she falls asleep. 

There’s something blooming between them, something warm and gentle and a little too close to hope. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Undrunk by Fletcher


	6. Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of shitty and short, but writing has been a struggle lately. This isn't even 2000 words and it took me a week to write. I don't really know what's wrong with me, but my stupid little lizard brain just can't focus on jack shit lately. I promise the next one will be better.
> 
> The bit of Chloe's poem is inspired by [this post](http://theglasschild.tumblr.com/post/105552890904/suddenly-youre-21-and-youre-screaming-along-in)
> 
> The song used is Sunrise by Our Last Night

“Beca’s got a crush!” Stacie shouts across the parking lot at Aubrey, making Beca roll her eyes as she tucks her phone away. 

“Shut the fuck up, I don’t have a crush,” Beca grumbles, pinching Stacie’s arm. “Emily and I are just ironing out the details for the collab.” 

“Bullshit,” Stacie snorts, pulling Aubrey into her arms when they finally get close enough. “You talk to her like every free second you have, you’re totally smitten.” 

“If that’s the case, then you and Aubrey must be an item, seeing as you’re basically connected at the hip,” Beca smirks knowingly, crossing her arms over her chest. “The toner you have for each other is really distracting.” 

Both girls open and shut their mouths before giving up on a retort altogether. “That’s what I thought,” Beca smirks as she heads toward the building. “You coming or am I going to have to tell Chloe that it’s just me tonight?” 

“Coming!” Aubrey shouts as Beca chuckles to herself. She was really hoping one of them would pull their head out of their ass and ask the other out. 

Beca is the first to push through the bar’s door, a smile on her face as Chloe’s overly bubbly face pops up from behind one of the speakers on stage. “Hey! You came!” 

“Of course we came,” Beca chuckles, trying not to flinch when Chloe rushes up to hug her. When Aubrey had first introduced them to Chloe, Beca would have been lying if she had said she wasn’t a little annoyed by the redhead, but now...well, now she seemed to be The Bellas’ new mascot. 

“I’m so nervous about this,” Chloe mumbles into Beca’s shoulder before she pulls away to smile at Aubrey and Stacie. “I haven’t done something like this in a long time.” 

“You’re going to do great,” Beca hums, turning to look at their friends. “And we’re all here to cheer you on.” 

“It’s a poetry slam, Bec, you don’t really cheer,” Chloe chuckles, leaning an arm on Beca’s shoulder. “But they explain all of that at the beginning.” 

“You’re an ass, I know they don’t literally cheer,” Beca rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. There’s just something about the redhead’s happy aura that’s contagious. “You’re gonna kill it.” 

“And even if you don’t, you have three hot girls waiting for you after,” Stacie grins, a mischievous glint in her eye. 

Chloe makes a sort of choked snort, her cheeks going as red as her hair for a moment before her attention is being drawn back to the stage. “I gotta finish helping them set up, I’ll see you after?”

“We’ll be here,” Aubrey smiles, squeezing Chloe’s shoulder before stepping back. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Thanks, Bree,” Chloe replies softly, her gaze flickering between Stacie and Aubrey before she’s shaking her head and making her way back to the stage. 

“And the toner multiplies,” Beca snorts softly, dodging a slap from Bree as she heads to the bar. “You love me!” 

“Jerk!”

* * *

 

“And just like that, we’re twenty-six and still screaming along to the same songs from a decade before, only the lyrics mean a little more now than they ever did then,” Chloe finishes, her lips a breath away from the mic, her chest heaving a little as she stares out into the crowd. 

Beca is blown away, truly. She knew Chloe was talented, but now she wanted to see what the two of them could do with Beca’s guitar and Chloe’s way with words. Before she knows it, she’s screaming out her praise, ignoring the looks she gets from the crowd, proud of the grin she gains from her friend. 

“Beca, you’re embarrassing her,” Aubrey hisses, but it just makes Beca laugh as she reaches for the beer in front of her. 

“She looked pretty happy to me,” Beca snorts before she takes a healthy drag from the draft. “Besides, she’s got talent, it should be celebrated.” 

“Celebrate a little quieter until we get back to my place, yeah?” Bree huffs, scooting a little closer to Stacie as if putting distance between herself and Beca would make her antics less noticeable. 

“Fun sucker,”

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Chloe chuckles nervously, her fingers brushing against the borrowed guitar slowly.. “You’re seriously going to sing one of my poems?” 

“It’s really good and I like the message,” Beca grins as she finishes setting the camera up. “I really think our audience will like it too.” 

“I just...it doesn’t seem real. I mean you turned one of my shitty poems into a song, it’s amazing,” the redhead breathes out, shaking her head a bit. 

“Shut the fuck up, it’s not a shitty poem,” the singer huffs out as she presses the record button. “And I didn’t do much but rearrange some stuff and add music, okay?” 

Chloe opens her mouth to argue but snaps it shut when Aubrey clears her throat, brows raising at her best friend. When the blonde seems satisfied, Beca steps up to the mic, both hands wrapping around it. It always felt weird not having her guitar, but Chloe insisted on singing back up so Beca gave her the option to play as well. 

Beca nods once and Aubrey is counting them off before her fingers start to work against the keys. After a moment Beca’s eyes slide shut and she starts singing softly.  _ “Full of despair, inside a darkness, self-conscious and scared held prisoner of war. Running out of air, buried in a sadness, want a way out of this paralyzing world.” _

_ “And the sounds of the cries when a family's loved one dies, it echoes through a vacant room where a young soul still resides,”  _ she croons into the mic as Chloe starts to strum the first few notes on her guitar. 

_ “When the night is cold and you feel like no one knows, what it's like to be the only one buried in this hole...You can make it to the sunrise. You can make it to the sunrise.”  _ Beca’s eyes snap open as she rocks her body to the drum beat, Chloe’s voice mingling with her own as they continue on. 

_ “Searching for a way to escape the madness, a dire need for change as we fight for better days. The hurt and the pain cut deep like a razor blade,”  _ she can feel herself falling into the song the same way she fell into Chloe’s original poem, her heart thudding in her chest. 

They were putting something great into the world, she just knew it.  _ “When the night is cold and you feel like no one knows, what it's like to be the only one buried in this hole. You can make it to the sunrise. You can make it to the sunrise.”  _

_ “I won’t go to my grave until a difference is made. I won’t go to my grave until a difference is made...until a difference is made,”  _ Beca’s tone has picked up with the rest of the music, her heart keeping time as she lets herself truly get lost in the song. 

_ “You can make it to the sunrise, whoa, whoa. You can make it the sunrise, woah, woah,”  _ she finishes off, the timing perfect for Aubrey’s prerecorded message that her and Stacie had designed to taper off with the music and end the song.

_ “From time to time, there arise among human beings, people, who seem to exude love, as naturally as the sun, gives out heat.”  _

“Holy fucking shit,” Chloe breathes out as soon as Beca has stopped the recording. “That was--”

“--absolutely amazing?” Stacie finishes for her, her fists pumping into the air as she sets down her violin. “Beca, can we keep her?” 

Beca chuckles at the question as she pulls up the recording on the computer to edit later. “I am not the person to ask that question, Stace. Chloe is a person, not a puppy.” 

“Chloe, you wanna stick around and make the rest of our music amazing?” Stacie asks with a grin. 

“But I mean...I just sing a little and play the guitar, you don’t really need that, right?” Chloe replies, her cheeks red. “I don’t mind being a groupie.” 

Beca snorts softly, watching the redhead over the top of her laptop. “Chloe, you are  _ not  _ a groupie,” she sighs softly, brushing her fingers against the laptop keys to title the new file. “We can always use another set of hands, you play that guitar just as well as I do, might as well use you.” 

“Plus, your voice really compliments Beca’s, it’ll sound really nice when we do more music like that,” Stacie adds, earning a smile from the redhead. 

“If you’re sure,” Chloe says softly, wringing her hands in front of her. “Then, I’ll do it.” 

She’s met with a chorus of cheers from the rest of the band while Beca pulls out her phone to read the message she knows she got during their recording session. 

_ I booked my flight for the end of June, are you ready to get your ass whipped on the dance floor?  _ Emily had sent right in the middle of the second chorus and it makes Beca’s heart skip just a bit. 

“Holy shit,” she breathes out, not really able to accept that Emily was actually flying to Georgia for her...band. 

“What?” Stacie asks, hopping over to read over Beca’s shoulder. “You scored the choreographer!” 

“I didn’t score anything, she’s just coming out for the collab!” Beca argues, fumbling to shove her phone into her pocket, hoping Stacie hadn’t bothered to read the texts above that one. “It’s going to be good for us.” 

“It’s going to be better for you,” Stacie smirks, poking Beca’s forehead. “Though, you might end up sinking money into that laundromat you use.” 

“What? Why?” Beca asks, her brow furrowing when Stacie takes a step back, a wicked grin on her lips. “Stacie, what?”

“Because...she’s going to be ruining your underwear.” 


End file.
